It started with a gigantic zucchini, surreptitiously hidden amongst many ordinary-sized zucchinis in my mother’s garden. Once it emerged, we were left wondering how something so enormous could successfully remain in hiding for so long. Was something supernatural at play? Not wanting to take any chances, my mother not-so-surreptitiously unloaded the mysterious monster onto me, where it not so much sat as embodied all of the remaining space in my fridge with its girth.

When life – or family, in this case – hands you a gigantic zucchini suspected of having supernatural powers, breaking it down becomes somewhat of an urgent matter. So I made zucchini bread. And it was awesome. Enjoyed warm, right out of the oven, it was even supernaturally-awesome. Airy, delicately spiced, buttery….so it was true! There was loveliness inside even the scariest monsters.

Once refrigerated, the bread took on a denser, cakier texture and it occurred to me that it might function as a delicious layer cake. (I happen to like my cakes on the denser side, provided there is some light and fluffy frosting accompanying the layers!) So, enter this zucchini-spice cake, which is composed of two zucchini bread layers separated and surrounded by a vanilla-nutmeg cream cheese frosting that you won’t be able to stop eating. If you can, I’d be worried that this recipe unknowingly transmitted some supernatural zucchini powers to you, dear eater! And what a pickle we’d be in then.

This dish may look and sound simple – and as far as preparation goes, it is. But in terms of flavor, it’s anything but.

The first time I made this, I was in a food rut. I wanted to eat – badly – but nothing sounded remotely appealing. Finally, I realized I was craving one specific ingredient, and nothing else was going to cut it. That ingredient? Butter. I wanted that rich, soft, comforting, fatty, full-bodiedness that comes from butter and butter alone. (Red palm oil does come close, but it’s not quite the same.) In any case, once I figured out that my body wanted butter, I was home free (in terms of getting out of my food rut, that is.)

It’s a little-known fact that my favorite vegetable is the carrot – I absolutely love its versatility, sweetness, color, texture – everything. Plus it’s good for your vision and super easy to digest! So of course I found myself with a pound of carrots on my cutting board and a vegetable peeler in my right hand. I was originally planning to just sauté some carrots in butter and call it a day (in which case there would be no blog post for me to write today), but I happened to walk away from my pan shortly after plopping those carrots in, and I didn’t return until several minutes later when I found them a lovely shade of gold and also realized I’d better deglaze the pan before I had a clean-up nightmare on my hands. So I reached for the red wine.

And the rest is history. For when I popped one in my mouth, I realized these were the caviar of carrots – the quotidian transformed into the extravagant. These sumptuous golden nuggets had the complexity of flavor of a slow-braised pheasant stuffed with white truffles foraged from a secret mountainside somewhere in France (if I told you where, I’d have to kill you); drizzled with a sauce made from the roots of a thousand-year-old redwood and herbs from the aforementioned secret mountainside — simmered together by pure sunlight over a period of many months; and finished with a black sea salt only obtained by scraping a deep-sea creature’s tongue. (Okay, maybe not, but they were pretty damn delicious. And probably more delicious than the salt scraped from a deep-sea creature’s tongue, because that actually sounds fairly revolting.)

When I come out of a food rut, I come back hard. I suddenly wanted to eat everything! Well, everything containing these carrots, at least. I’d serve them with herbed quinoa and balsamic lentils, or white-bean croquettes, or…the possibilities were endless.